Writers block~

Everybody experiences writer’s block, that infuriating and bothersome time when your creativity shatters and your left with pieces and scraps that are nearly unworkable to write about! My life as been swamped with tiny bits of historical moments, fairies, many different works of art. Now when I say different I mean strange, exotic, enticing things that grab you by the hand and leave you quivering for more of the experience. Jason Ehrlicher, my beloved father and loving husband to my mother Maureen Ehrlicher, adored sketch and draw he took many classes and ever since I could remember all he did was scribble striking shapes and lines over a pad of what seemed like mere paper but, later I discovered I needed a passion to put my inventiveness to, That was the day I searched for something… Something my parents had diverse words for...My force.

Mother always talked about her writing and how much it meant to her “the day each of you were born” she’d start “I wrote about every single one of you!” spreading her joy of having children scrawled on pieces of loose-leaf. Most of us were Hell bent on trying our best at being creative we wanted to be something mama bragged about. However we all didn’t succeed the way we wished. You see my eldest brother excelled and pen and ink works of art my younger in charcoal and me in both constructing written and drawn pieces, but my sisters were unfortunate. Natasha the youngest and Angela only 2 minutes before her both could not write and draw. My parents noticed how left out they felt in the family and seeker a way they could join into our world...they didn’t they could not figure it out but, they eventually discovered clay. It had always been simple for me to draw and write but, one day this changed I could not type...a single...word…

“D*** Blast it!” I screamed at the top of my lungs and my mother rushed to my side. “WHAT! What is it? What’s wrong?” I looked up into my mother’s chocolate melting eyes and in a frustrated huff said “I HAVE GOT NOTHING! My brain won’t program the gears aren’t working! “My mother stood perplexed she did not understand. I calmed down and sighed “Look I can not write a single word nothing is flowing ...I think I’ve run out of ideas.” My mother smiled “Well that’s simple Do you not see its Writer’s block” I blinked puzzled. I could not figure why the block would place itself on me at the moment of utmost essentialness. “#1640” was bracing the crisp printed pages and soon to be shipped around the world. So why could I not finish the ENDING! My mother only smiled brighter “please why do not just put it away and relax think of why you are writing in the first place.” I blew off my mother’s words “Oh please that will not help me!” as I held my head in my hands in dissatisfaction. “What am I to do it will be presented in just a few short days!”, and let a tear fall. ”This can not happen not now!”

For days my mind faltered as I struggled and scraped for even a coherent sentence that would bring the ending to a new start but, all I received were crossed out scratches, ripping paper, and dead end sentences. I was at my wits end so I did what I always did when something irritable arose, I sat in the middle of the meadow me and my older brother use to share. My brother had many times when his art work would not come to him so he and I would come into this old forgotten grassland and soak up our surroundings though we do not know whom it belongs too. I looked into the sky and grinned as a soft blue jay flapped his wings over the sky and thought what is it I am missing? Then my views turned to the blue jay. What does he need to fly? What gives him the courage to try and flap the tattered baby wings of its youth? To face the concrete below? Eureka! My hand was not cramping my mind was on the fritz it was simple like my mother said “why do I write?” I write because I have a passion for it and though these winding signatures where congesting my thoughts. Suddenly the Passionate ending flowed from my mind though my hand, on to the sheet of paper I tucked into my back pocket before I had left. I knew what to write I only needed to realize why!

I laughed on my way home that day thinking: How is it I forgot something like that?” and shaking my head How is it that I of all people daughter to Jason and Maureen Ehrlicher forgot that the one thing you truly need to write for a living is your fire your passion. Days passed Weeks but I never forgot because I knew that without it I could not accomplish anything piece of art. Tom (older brother) forgot and he found it his infatuation the key to opening up the door to the perfection of your creation. Now every time I write I have this quote in my skull drilled for eternity on stone “I walk through the door, and suddenly I'm blind, I can no longer follow the path that I was following But, sooner or later the light bulb will flicker and then you will find what u were looking for.”

Subscribe

Get Teen Ink’s 48-page monthly print edition. Written by teens since 1989.

Join the Discussion

I've loved everything so far you have written(that I have read..You are a prolific writer) ......wow, wish I could write like this! Intense and soft and alluring.......Love your work pics and how you weave feeling with a tested tap of reality in the physcial.........just cool! Hope you will keep it up for yrs and yrs to come!

I love this story! It is sad, but true, that all writers, unfortunately do get writer's block, and I love the creative way you illustrated it in this story! If you get the chance, may you please give me feedback on my article, "Is There Reason?" Thanks so much, it is new, and I have not gotten too many comments recently! Great work!